


When The Sky Comes Tumbling Down

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Gapfillerpalooza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-20
Updated: 2005-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian tells Justin to make a choice.  He just doesn't know what to do once Justin has made it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Sky Comes Tumbling Down

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 220  
> Written for LJ's Gapfillerpalooza

_1:23 a.m._

Brian knows there must be music. It’s Babylon, it’s the Rage party, it’s Friday night, therefore he must be drowning in a bass beat and the familiar thumpa-thumpa rhythm. So he starts to move, tries his customary sway that feels like a stagger through the roar of rejection pounding in his skull.

He draws out a trick, too skinny, lank unwashed hair and dead eyes. He knows that any other night he would throw this fish back in the pond. But this isn’t any other night.

Lights flash in time to the electro pulse. The noise of the celebrating crowd swells, their laughter ringing in his ears.

The trick licks his lips, and Brian recoils in disgust.

“I’ve already had you,” he mumbles as he lurches from the dance floor.

* * *

 _2:03 a.m._

Brian stands at the kitchen island, drumming his fingers absently as he looks around his space. Justin’s jacket still thrown haphazardly across the sofa; a half-full carton of orange juice left out on the counter.

His footsteps seem to echo in the room as he crosses to the fridge. He takes out a bottle of water and --

 _He strips off his shirt, upends the bottle, drenches his head, water dripping down his chest... The little virgin standing just inside the doorway, all hesitation and full lips and wide eyes... Brian loves the tease, and he knows how he looks, wanton and lush and alive, the air around them crackling with lust, and he knows this trick will always remember this night, will always remember him, will never ever forget him..._

The anger rises suddenly, overwhelmingly. The water bottle flies, ricocheting off the table. Brian clenches his fist and takes in deep gulps of air.

* * *

 _2:17 a.m._

The water is as hot as he can stand it, hot enough to raise a crimson flush on his skin. Brian stands unblinking under the spray.

He wouldn’t change a thing. He didn’t believe in do-overs on the playground, and he certainly doesn’t believe in them now. He is the man created by genetics, by upbringing, by Jack and Joan, but more than that, he is the man that he created from the ashes of those things, and he can only be that man. He doesn’t know how to be any other. When he tries, the result is bats to the head and non-vacations and standing, helpless, hopeless, as his lover walks out the door.

He can’t be any other.

* * *

 _2:56 a.m._

Brian stubs out his cigarette and crawls into bed. He tries to blink past the images that creep stealthily across his brain - Justin laughing, pouting, crying, dancing, teasing, smiling -- and finds they only grow brighter and stronger. He pinches the bridge of his nose and fights back the surge of pain-fear-longing that sears across his chest.

He tries not to think of anything at all.


End file.
